Page 14 of Boudicca

I woke early the next morning, and for an instant the familiar sounds and scents of my lodge being readied for the day lulled

me into the belief that nothing had changed—that my mother and Dafina were just on the other side of the reed wall that sectioned

off my bedchamber, readying the lodge for another busy day.

Then a small, warm body stirred beside me while from my other side soft snores made sleepy, rhythmic music. I jolted fully

awake and remembered everything.

Gently, I disentangled myself from my girls. I had to step over Briallen, who was sleeping on what had been Dafina’s pallet

at the foot of Arianell’s bed. As I did, the warrior woke. I pressed my finger against my lips and motioned for her to stay

where she was. I could see she wanted to argue, but I shook my head and made a firm staying gesture with my hand as I whispered,

“Sleep. The girls will want you close when they wake.” Unspoken was the fact that Briallen’s injuries also needed sleep to

heal, and I wanted her whole and at my side as soon as possible.

Reluctantly, Briallen nodded. Her eyes were already closing as I crept from what had been my mother’s bedchamber out into

the main part of the lodge, which was quietly buzzing with activity.

Phaedra saw me and told one of the other servants, “Begin pouring the queen’s bath. Remember to scent it with the lavender

and goat’s milk she prefers.” As the servant hurried to the already steaming cauldron that hung over one of the several cooking

fires, Phaedra came to me and bowed. “Good morn, my queen. It is not quite dawn. You have time to bathe and break your fast

before Addedomaros comes to take his leave of you. I have put out your blue and green plaid tunic, the one decorated with

silver thread. Is that to your liking?”

“Yes, Phaedra.” Then, before my servant rushed away to gather brushes and sponges, as well as salve for my back, I touched her arm, halting her. “You have done well this morning, Phaedra.”

Her ivory cheeks flushed pink and she dropped her head in another bow as she averted her gaze. “Dafina usually directs the

readying of the lodge for the day. I—I did not mean to overstep, but there are so few of us left, and...” Her voice faded

as she wiped tears from her cheeks.

I lifted her chin gently. “Dafina would be proud of you, as would Arianell. As am I.” I raised my voice so that the other

servants heard. There were so few of them—only six, four women and two young men. From the list of those killed by the Romans

I picked out the names of the other six servants, those who hadn’t escaped into the forest. They had been decades older than

Phaedra.

“They will be missed,” I said softly as I slid into the copper bath. I made a mental note to put out the word that the queen’s

lodge needed servants.

“They will be, my queen.” Phaedra’s voice was laced with anger. “But the Romans will not dishearten us. We want you to know

that. We will survive and thrive once again.”

I met her gaze. “And get vengeance.”

“Yes, my queen.”

“While I bathe, send messages to Cadoc, Abertha, and Maldwyn, as well as Derwyn and Rhan. I call them to a war council. Make

ready the lodge. I would have the Trinovantes know the Iceni have not been broken.”

Her eyes glittered. “As you ask, so will I do.”

***

I ate hastily as Phaedra smeared salve over my healing wounds, helped me dress, and then brushed out my hair. I made the decision to leave the bulk of it unbraided, though I did have her plait raven feathers throughout it. Using the woad-colored paste, I painted my face, touched the thick torque that rested heavily around my neck, and spoke a quick prayer to Andraste. “Goddess, let me continue to do your will. I am your Victory.” Then I parted the pelt curtain to my chamber and strode out into my lodge.

Phaedra had relayed my orders to make ready for a war council. Before the center fire of the lodge was a large square dais

made of gleaming oak carved with Andraste’s familiars—ravens, hares, and boars—in intricate knot work around the base. On

the dais was the massive chair Prasutagus had commanded be carved from the same oak and also decorated with symbols of our

goddess. As I took my seat in the chair I was glad for my height and the broadness of my shoulders so that I wouldn’t appear

a child usurping the throne of her elders. To my right on the dais were three smaller chairs, one for each of my lead warriors.

To my left I’d had Phaedra add two additional chairs so that Derwyn and Rhan could join me.

“Open the doors to the lodge,” I commanded.

Cadoc was the first to enter. I met his gaze and motioned surreptitiously to the chairs to my right. The seasoned shield led

Abertha and Maldwyn up to the dais. He sat in the chair nearest me as the other two lead warriors took the remaining seats.

“Derwyn, Rhan, it would please me if you would lend your wisdom to my war council,” I said as I gestured to the chairs on

my left.

Derwyn’s brows rose, but he and Rhan joined me on the dais. Many Iceni warriors followed the Druids into the lodge as word

that I had called a war council spread throughout Tasceni. I’d known it would, and I’d known my people would come, curious

to see how their peaceable queen would, or would not, lead. Lastly, Addedomaros; his shield, Mailcun; and the half dozen warriors

the Trinovantes chief had brought with him to Tasceni entered. The Iceni parted, letting them approach the dais.

Addedomaros had come to be chief of Tribe Trinovantes before his sixteenth nameday, immediately after his father had been killed in a hunting accident. He was older than Prasutagus, but not by much. He was not as tall as me, but what he lacked in height he made up for with thick cords of muscles that had always reminded me of a bull. His hair was the same color as Rhan’s, moonlight blond, but instead of her dark eyes, his were faded blue green, as if they couldn’t decide between the two colors and chose instead to be a tepid mix of both. He held himself like a chief—shoulders back, chin high, gaze steady. It was rumored that he was still virile and had several lovers, though after Rhan’s mother died birthing their only son he had not remarried. To me Addedomaros would always be a father figure, as he had stood in for my beloved father during the five years I fostered in his household. His voice was a deep, pleasing rumble.

Addedomaros nodded respectfully to me. “Good dawning to you, Queen Boudicca,” he said formally.

“And to you as well, Chief Addedomaros.”

“We thank you for your Beltane hospitality and wish our visit had been in happier times,” said the chief. “Now we must return

to our own lodge and our own people.”

“The sadness here was not of your making, old friend.” Had Prasutagus been there, he would have talked of crops and horses,

trade goods and the spring games. But my husband was dead and I had no patience for pleasantries. I met the chief’s gaze steadily.

“Tribe Trinovantes has long been allied with the Iceni, longer even than you were allied with the Brigantes, from whom I came

to you as a child and fostered as a second daughter.”

Addedomaros nodded. “I remember your fostering well.” His gaze went to his daughter and his eyes softened. “You and my daughter

were inseparable.”

“I assume you do not welcome fosterlings from Tribe Brigantes now,” I said.

His gaze snapped back to me and he scowled. “Not since Cartimandua whored her tribe out to the Romans.”

“And, with the traitorous Catuvellauni, helped them steal Camulodunum from you,” I added.

His scowl deepened at the reminder of what the queen of the Brigantes had taken from his tribe.

“All here know of the Catuvellauni’s hand in the tragedy that has befallen Tasceni, as well as Cartimandua’s treachery,” said Addedomaros. “Most especially you, Queen Boudicca, as you grew up in the heart of Tribe Brigantes and are kinswoman to their royal house.”

I didn’t take his bait. The Iceni had witnessed my mother’s heartbreak when news had come that the queen of her beloved Brigantes

had allied herself with Rome. With the aid of the Roman legions and other, weaker tribes like the Catuvellauni, the Brigantes

had begun stealing land from their neighbors. They also remembered, as did I, that Prasutagus had declined to join with Addedomaros

to beat back the traitorous queen. He and I had had one of our very few disagreements over his decision. I’d believed he was

wrong not to ally with Addedomaros against Cartimandua. He’d believed it was too dangerous to openly attack an ally of Rome

and said I did not see the situation clearly because of the love I had for my parents and for the tribe that had fostered

me.

I lifted my chin. “Cartimandua is, indeed, my father’s kinswoman—though only by a marriage that is no more. I wish you to

know had the decision been mine those many years ago, Iceni spears would have joined with Trinovantes blades to drink her

blood.”

The old chief’s body stiffened in surprise, and then his eyes narrowed. “Tell me, Queen Boudicca, do you mention the past

because you need the aid of Tribe Trinovantes in the present?”

“Yes!” I spoke the word fiercely as I leaned forward. “I ask that Tribe Trinovantes be the first to pledge to join the Iceni

to rid Britain of the infestation of the Romans—to serve vengeance for the deaths of our elders, the rape of my children,

and the flesh they scourged from my back. In doing so you may reclaim Camulodunum as your rightful land. Will you join me,

mighty Addedomaros? Will you aid me in the fulfillment of Andraste’s curse?”

Addedomaros paused, and when he spoke he did so slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Queen Boudicca, I feel your rage. I

understand it. I even agree with it. I have felt the Roman boot on my neck for many years, and I sicken of it. But open war

against Rome is something I must not choose rashly on a tide of passion.”

His response was more positive than I had hoped, and as he spoke I could see his shield, Mailcun, move his wide shoulders restlessly, as if he chafed under a binding yoke.

Still holding the chief’s gaze, I asked, “Derwyn, do you believe it is a rash thing to war against the Romans?”

“My belief is of no consequence,” said the Druid. “It is the goddess Andraste who has opened the dam and calls the tide of

war and promised revenge for the Iceni. I only interpret the signs she sends, and on that, the goddess of war is clear. She

thirsts for the blood of Rome and has chosen Queen Boudicca, her Victory, to lead the Iceni into battle.”

Addedomaros nodded. “But, High Druid, what of the omens of war? Are they auspicious or will a revolt be futile?”

Derwyn used his staff to gesture at Rhan, and I felt the tiny hairs on the nape of my neck lift as he addressed my childhood

friend. “Iceni seer, what say you of the portents for war?”

From her raised place of honor, Rhan stared down at her father. Her voice was strong and carried throughout the lodge. “Andraste

has been clear! She named Boudicca Victory at her birth and reinforced that naming the day the Romans invaded Tasceni by gifting

her with the chief’s torque. You witnessed Andraste’s sign yesterday, chief of the Trinovantes.” While Rhan spoke, the lodge

was so silent it was as if the room held its breath. I had forgotten about the singular ability she’d had since childhood

to hold rapt an audience. When she was a girl, the power had been nascent. As a fully trained Druid seer, Rhan was mesmerizing.

“The goddess of war has chosen. She thirsts for Roman blood.”

“Ah, but will Andraste lead Boudicca to the victory her name promises?” asked Addedomaros, seemingly unmoved by his daughter’s

words.

I spoke before Rhan could answer and felt the thrumming of Andraste’s power vibrate through my body as my words echoed preternaturally around me. “The goddess has not promised that we will defeat the Romans, though she has promised that the curse I placed upon the centuria who attacked Tasceni will be fulfilled. But consider, chief of the Trinovantes, is an assurance of victory the best reason to go to war? We must war against the Romans because we cannot continue to stand idly by and do nothing while Rome preys upon us, enslaves our people,

and wipes away our tribes and our gods. If we do not try, are we not already gone? Are we not doomed to become like them,

a people who have so little honor that they violate children and subjugate their women to appear powerful?” I paused as the

warriors before me growled their agreement. Emboldened, I stood, threw wide my arms. “I will not become Roman! Will you?”

Cadoc surged to his feet as he shouted, “No!”

Abertha and Maldwyn stood and cried, “No!”

“No!” My people echoed their roar.

I raised my hand and the lodge went silent. “The Iceni have decided. We war against Rome. What say Tribe Trinovantes?”

Addedomaros drew himself up to his full height. He looked from his daughter to me and then bowed his head slightly. “I say

that I will return to my tribe and call my own war council. I give you my oath that I shall consider your words carefully

before I make a response. Will that satisfy you, Queen Boudicca?”

“The only answer that would truly satisfy me is to hear the Trinovantes war cry join with the Iceni,” I said.

I saw the surprise in his eyes and read there that he had not expected me to be so decisive. Addedomaros would not be the

last man to underestimate me.

“I take my leave of you,” said the chief. “You have given me much to think on.”

“Then fare thee well, Chief Addedomaros. May the joy of the day be with you,” I said.

“And may the blessings of the earth be on you.” He turned, and my Iceni parted to let the chief and his warriors through the

tightly packed lodge.

I breathed out a long breath and sat. As Cadoc and my other lead warriors took their seats again, the old shield caught my

eye and spoke quietly. “Well done, my queen.”

I felt a wave of relief at his praise. I was not weak. I did not lack in confidence. I was accustomed to leading my people, but readying my tribe for battle was not the same as readying them for the spring planting or the fall harvest. My hands curled on the smooth wooden arms of the throne that today finally felt truly mine. I lifted my chin and continued.

“Let us proceed as if Tribe Trinovantes will not ally with us. The Iceni are strong. Even alone we will fulfill Andraste’s

curse, but to do so we must be subtle. The procurator explained his plans clearly as he invaded Tasceni. He will not return

to our lands until harvest, when he intends to collect Rome’s taxes.” I turned my head so that I could meet Cadoc’s sharp

gaze. “If we do not call his attention to us, we have time to ready ourselves and bring our vengeance to him at Camulodunum.

We will burn that Roman city to the ground with him in it. Catus Decianus will never defile Tasceni again.”

The warriors who filled the lodge murmured agreement, and Cadoc nodded. “If we gather the Iceni, we can destroy Camulodunum,

though the Romans will surely respond by bringing their legions against us. We will not easily hold the city, my queen.”

I sneered. “I have no need to hold Roman ashes and ruins.”

Cadoc bared his teeth in a feral grin. “Again, I agree with your wisdom. I advise alerting all Iceni blacksmiths so that quietly,

in each of our villages, they immediately begin forging spears and swords, arrows and shields.”

Maldwyn spoke up. “My queen, it would be wise to command the making of new chariots.”

Abertha leaned forward so that she could meet my gaze. “The weapons could be stockpiled within the barrows. The Romans do

not go there.”

“The new chariots can be hidden in the forest surrounding the barrows,” added Maldwyn. “Romans rarely stray far from their

roads.”

“Send runners to every village commanding it.” I shifted my attention to the two Druids beside me. “Derwyn, I planned to ask

your permission to allow Rhan to remain here to serve as seer to the Iceni when you leave.” I paused and smiled into his wise

eyes. “But it seems you answered my request before I could make it of you.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Last night Andraste sent a raven to my dreams. The bird spoke Rhan’s name before it flew to perch upon the roof of your lodge. It seems the goddess agreed with your request, and as I am here to serve the gods, I must also agree.”

My gaze returned to my people. “Then let it be known henceforth Rhan is seer to Tribe Iceni.”

“Let it be known!” the warriors shouted.

I turned to Rhan, and even though it had been many years since we had been inseparable, I read her face as if we had only

parted yesterday. “Has Andraste sent you an omen to interpret, Seer Rhan?” I asked.

“She has, Queen Boudicca,” she replied formally. “At dawn, as I walked from the tents of the Druids through Tasceni to the

lodge, every hen in the village suddenly ran past me, toward the fields.” Rhan did not raise her voice and the lodge went

absolutely still as the Iceni listened, spellbound, to their newly appointed seer. “Their behavior was so odd that I followed.

They appeared to be in a trancelike state, though when they reached the fields they ravenously attacked the young crops as

if they were starving. When I drew near they turned as one to look at me and then they were released from their frenzy, ruffled

their feathers, and trotted sedately past me to return to their roosts.”

“How do you interpret this omen, Seer Rhan?” asked Derwyn.

“Andraste used the hens to send sign that the Iceni must prepare now to feed an army this winter,” said Rhan firmly.

I shivered at her words. For a moment my confidence faltered. Feeding my army—I should have thought of it! Then I stopped

that mental admonishment. I am but one person. I cannot possibly know everything. I will not be a queen driven by pride rather than wisdom. There is

no shame in seeking and taking advice from my seer, my council, my goddess. I nodded respectfully to Rhan. “Then we will make it so. Pick every orchard bare. Harvest our crops early. Send word to all Iceni hunters to smoke venison and boar now, as if winter and not summer were upon us. Fatten our goats and cows. Cast our nets into our bountiful rivers and fill barrels with salted fish. The Iceni will be strong and ready for war.”

“Let it be known!” my people shouted.

“I will send out riders on our swiftest horses,” said Maldwyn.

“As you do so, tell them to also speak this command from their queen,” I said. “‘Come to me, mighty warriors of the Iceni.

Come to me and together we will serve the vengeance of Andraste to the Romans.’”

“As you ask, so will I do,” said Maldwyn, his eyes glittering with excitement.